by Mark Moyar
Fate could hand SOF another opportunity to serve as a strategic weapon, as occurred in Afghanistan in 2001. But the scarcity of such opportunities in the historical record suggests that these opportunities will be few. Consequently, SOF will need to be integrated into the broader strategic enterprise under the direction of a unified theater military commander, as is generally true under the current system—preferably a unified commander who understands the strengths and limitations of special operations and does not harbor strong prejudices against those who execute them.
RELATIONSHIP WITH THE CONVENTIONAL MILITARY
Special operations forces were destined to clash with conventional forces from the moment they lured conventional troops with promises of service in an elite unit, which is to say from the very beginning. Selective recruitment, specialized training, and self-designation as elite forces encouraged special operators to view themselves as superior beings, which inevitably antagonized the conventional forces. The segregation of talented individuals in special operations forces aroused concerns about the detrimental effects on the conventional forces, concerns that multiplied as special operations forces grew in size. The conventional forces clearly suffered a loss in quality when some of their best people were transferred to special operations forces, but it was seldom as clear that the special operations forces accomplished enough to justify weakening the rest of the forces.
The emergence of research showing that a small, aggressive minority of combat troops did most of the fighting in World War II sparked complaints that SOF reliance on volunteers robbed the rest of the combat forces of the aggressive men who served as the spines of regular units. The end of the draft in 1973 and the advent of the all-volunteer force alleviated this problem, as young men who were devoid of aggressive spirit generally stayed out of the military. In terms of general aptitude and creativity, however, the special operations forces have remained a breed apart from most of their conventional colleagues.
The growth of special operations forces has resulted in the organizational separation of the two main types of military leaders, especially within the Army. Most individuals who attain leadership positions in large organizations fit into one of two personality categories, which the widely used Myers-Briggs typology calls “intuitive-thinking” and “sensing-judging.” The special operations forces have attracted into their ranks large numbers of individuals from the “intuitive-thinking” category. People in this personality group rely heavily on intuition in comprehending the world, and they have a strong interest in the big picture and its changing dynamics. Willing to take large risks, they seek new solutions to strategic problems and eschew rigid adherence to standard operating procedures, which they view as unimaginative and unduly constraining. They appreciate the value of history but are selective in employing its lessons, weighing context heavily before drawing conclusions. They excel at sifting the flakes of gold from a mass of facts, and at using those flakes to reach decisions quickly. In the business world, these leaders predominate in fast-changing fields like investment banking and information technology, where their capabilities for understanding and adapting to complex environments are vital to profitability.
The concentration of “intuitive-thinking” officers in special operations forces has left the rest of the military’s leadership with a high proportion of “sensing-judging” individuals. Relying mainly on the five senses to comprehend the world, the “sensing-judgers” are preoccupied with facts and tactics. They prefer to assemble massive PowerPoint decks, replete with statistics and charts, before making decisions. Averse to risks, they are inclined to do what has been done in the past and what is stipulated by rulebooks or doctrines. In the private sector, such leaders overflow in the leadership ranks of corporations whose activities change little over time and hence are well suited to standardization, such as facilities management and transportation.
The predominance of these “sensing-judging” leaders in conventional forces has put those forces at a disadvantage in tackling complex problems, a shortcoming that was manifested in combating insurgents in Iraq and Afghanistan. It could also affect US forces in a future conventional war, for conventional warfare also privileges leaders who can think outside the box, in the manner of Hannibal, Napoleon, and Nimitz.
One noteworthy exception to the personality trends of special operations forces is to be found in aviation. Officers in special operations aviation units have often demonstrated sensing-judging behaviors, presumably because the hell-raising pilots are too small in number to overrule the numerous officers in logistics, maintenance, engineering, and other mundane specialties that prize standardization and minimization of risk. Because of “jointness” requirements stemming from the Goldwater-Nichols Act of 1986, special operations ground units have often come under the command of special operations aviators whose sensing-judging tendencies clashed with the risk-taking and unconventional thinking of ground operators.
The most obvious remedy to this problem is to let the ground commanders deal with the ground operations and the aviation commanders with the air operations. But the two can seldom be separated so neatly, for air and ground operations routinely take place in concert, each one affecting the other, both requiring a single conductor to keep the orchestra playing in unison. Ground operators who wish to insert by helicopter in enemy territory must impose on aviators to take large risks, such as flying through bad weather or past enemy weaponry. Aviators intent on minimizing casualties must impose on ground operators to follow safety procedures that impede their effectiveness, like snapping in safety tethers or keeping aircraft doors shut. Ultimately it is up to the joint commander to balance the tradeoffs and decide which side must yield. Given that aviation almost always plays a supporting role to the ground forces and that its leadership’s risk aversion can easily stifle action in an industry that demands risk taking, it makes more sense for that joint commander to be a ground operator.
The ongoing popularity of special operations forces among America’s political leaders leaves little chance that they will be reduced in size for the purpose of improving the quality or creativity of the rest of the military. But other measures are available that could increase the percentage of unconventional thinkers in the conventional forces. The military could administer personality tests and employ personality profiles as a major criterion in recruiting and promotion, as the private sector does habitually. Officers who demonstrate creativity and insight could be given priority for the positions where those qualities are most in demand, such as combat arms leadership and strategic planning, while officers inclined toward standardization and risk mitigation could be steered to specializations best suited to those attributes, such as logistics, engineering, and financial management.
In the early decades of SOF, special operators had ample reason to complain that the conventional commanders were misusing them and depriving them of resources. With the growth of SOCOM, however, the pendulum began to swing, so that by the early twenty-first century, the conventional units were often used to support special operations forces that had equal or greater resources. The Bin Laden raid led SOCOM to push for a still more eminent position, which would come at the expense of the conventional forces. But, like Icarus, SOCOM tried to fly higher than its wings could carry it and ended up crashing back to earth.
For those in the military who sought to obstruct Admiral William McRaven’s quest for a more powerful SOCOM, a chief point of contention was authority over the special operations forces deployed overseas. Whereas McRaven contended that the ability of adversaries to operate in multiple regions called for a US command that could operate across regional boundaries, the four-star regional commanders argued that they should be the masters of all military forces in their regions in the interest of unity of command. Both arguments have some merit. The resistance that McRaven encountered is likely to dissuade future SOCOM commanders from aspiring to the global authority that Donald Rumsfeld once envisioned for that organization. But such a
change is possible if another president or secretary of defense champions the cause, or if the US government scraps the system of regional commanders and replaces it with a centralized command structure, as some reformers now advocate.
The evolving relationship between special and conventional forces has not consisted solely of envy and strife. After the first few years in Iraq, special operations forces and conventional forces learned that each could accomplish more by working together than separately, and therefore they often joined together in defeating insurgents in Iraq and Afghanistan. Such collaboration offers reason for hope that the two sides can work alongside one another fruitfully in the future. But collaboration of this sort is never inevitable; rather, it requires leaders who recognize the value of collaboration and are not obsessed with getting credit for their own actions. It also requires continuous effort by special operators to allay the resentments that flow naturally from the existence of elite forces. They should steadfastly heed General Stanley McChrystal’s admonition after Desert Storm that special operators ought to “open up more, educate conventional leaders,” and “avoid even the appearance of elitist attitudes or arrogance.”
OPENNESS
Secrecy enables special operations forces to catch enemies unaware, and to undertake actions that might generate hostility toward the perpetrating nation were the identity of the perpetrating forces known. For these reasons, certain activities and methods of special operations forces deserve to remain enshrouded in secrecy. Some elements of the special operations bureaucracy, including a number of senior leaders, are inclined to hide not merely such secrets, but also a far broader range of information, much of which cannot in reality be kept hidden from enterprising journalists or members of Congress. Such an approach runs contrary to the long-term interests of America’s special operations forces and the American nation as a whole.
External oversight and criticism are seldom pleasurable for those who are overseen or criticized, and they are sometimes misguided, but they are nonetheless as critical for special operations forces as for the rest of the military. Organizations that refuse to listen to recommendations for change, be they from outsiders or their own members, are likely to atrophy, if not become obsolete. No matter whether a military organization operates in the shadows or in broad daylight, it must share some information with the American public, Congress, other executive branch agencies, the media, and watchdog organizations, for the American people and their representative institutions are the fundamental sources of SOF personnel, funding, and authority. America’s other military organizations, which in general have as much need as special operations forces to conceal certain methods and technologies from adversaries, have been able to keep secrets without perpetually cloistering themselves in high-security buildings.
One of the most damaging effects of excessive secretiveness is a lack of accountability for what in military parlance are called “toxic leaders”—individuals who put their interests above all else and thereby undermine subordinates, the institution, and the mission. Owing to the dearth of external monitoring, special operations forces are often left to police themselves, and they have sometimes been reluctant to remove toxic leaders because of personal connections, fear of attracting outside attention, or bureaucratic red tape. The elite status of SOF, the public adulation heaped onto the special operators, and the existence of the word “special” have contributed to the problem of toxic leadership by nurturing arrogance. They are not the root cause, though, for toxic leadership and arrogance can be found anywhere and they are often absent from SOF leaders. As Navy SEAL veteran Bob Schoultz has noted, the struggle between virtue and vanity in the leadership of militaries is timeless. “We can go back nearly 3,000 years and look at Homer’s Iliad,” Schoultz observes. Whereas Hector was “a great citizen, husband, father, and son,” Achilles was “a selfish and ego-driven prima-donna who fought primarily for personal glory.”
In recognition of the problems caused by toxic leaders within their ranks, the Navy SEALs recently modified their personnel selection processes to put more emphasis on personal integrity. Acing “Hell Week” and other SEAL selection rituals dating back to the Underwater Demolition Teams no longer guarantees admission into the club. Exceptional physical and mental fortitude remain prerequisites for SEALs, but the SEAL community has learned from hard experience that individuals of great strength and toughness can still suffer from severe flaws of character, which can manifest themselves when SEALs interact with each other, or, as is increasingly often the case, with people outside of their tight-knit organization.
If special operations forces are to have a bright future, the deciding factors will lie not in the realm of gadgets, money, or selection ordeals. Rather, they will be found in the talents and character of the people to whom the privilege of command is given. The decisions of these commanders, along with those of the civilian commander-in-chief, will determine whether the skills, valor, and devotion of special operations forces are channeled into activities of commensurate value to the national interest.
More broadly, undue secretiveness impedes the understanding, dialogue, and reflection that promote excellence in a profession, and especially a profession of arms. Published books, articles, and speeches encourage individuals to join an organization, and give them mental and emotional inspiration during their careers. Countless young Americans have sought entry into the special operations forces as a result of reading detailed and sober accounts of Eagle Claw or Gothic Serpent. Senior SOF officers seeking solutions to contemporary problems routinely turn to published histories of special operations forces in Vietnam, Colombia, or Iraq. Classified histories, by contrast, are too few in number, too inconsistent in quality, and too limited in dissemination to hold the attention of the special operations world.
To keep special operations forces under a broad blanket of secrecy is to aid those who would promote extreme and unrealistic views on the effectiveness of those forces. If little is known about their activities, SOF can easily be depicted as ineffectual, nefarious, or both. Conversely, lack of knowledge facilitates exaggeration of the capabilities and achievements of special operations forces. On repeated occasions, unscrupulous political and military leaders and media outlets have oversold special operations forces to American leaders and citizens who did not possess enough information to assess the sales pitches. Among those influenced by such salesmen have been commanders-in-chief and other high officials, such as John F. Kennedy, Donald Rumsfeld, and Barack Obama. Those leaders consequently relied too heavily on special operations forces, to the detriment of US foreign policy and the well-being of special operators. As a group of senior special operations veterans attested in October 2016, the makers of American foreign policy need to “educate themselves” on “the relative strengths and weaknesses of SOF, and when they should and should not be used.”
History is the primary reference manual for humans confronting difficult challenges. It can be used well or poorly, but in general people make better decisions when they consult the manual than when they ignore it. How well history is used depends upon the capabilities and motives of the user, and also upon the quality of the history. If secretiveness renders history shallow or inaccurate, then even the most astute citizens, soldiers, and statesmen are liable to make bad decisions. For the sake of the special operations forces, their history must be published, the good as well as the bad, and it must be read.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book came to be as the result of a special operations history course I taught at the Joint Special Operations University in 2014 and 2015. I had the privilege of teaching the class with Will Irwin, a retired Special Forces lieutenant colonel and distinguished historian, who taught me a great deal about the history of the Jedburghs, of which he is a preeminent expert, and other special operations forces. Will helped me realize the need for a comprehensive history that pulled together the nuggets of truth scattered across thousands of special operations books and articles. Several a
dditional colleagues at the Joint Special Operations University—Colonel Bill Knarr, Colonel Pete McCabe, Rob Nalepa, Jason Quirine, Rich Rubright, Colonel Greg Salomon, Anna Wyant, and Fred Zimmerman—further enriched my understanding of special operations.
Colonel Jeff Goble, the Joint Special Operations University vice president at the time, was also instrumental in convincing me of the need to write a book on this subject. Once the first draft of the manuscript was finished, he provided comments that were extremely helpful in the process of revision. A number of others in the special operations community, who cannot be named, also gave invaluable feedback on preliminary drafts.
A large number of current and former special operations personnel permitted me to interview them for this book. The interviewees whom I can mention by name are Lieutenant Colonel Wil R. Griego, Brigadier General Hector E. Pagan, Brigadier General Richard W. Potter, Colonel Mark Rosengard, and Lieutenant General William P. Tangney.
I am indebted to those special operators who have blazed the way for historians through their analyses of special operations history, including Lieutenant Colonel Irwin as well as Colonel Bernd Horn, Admiral William McRaven, Colonel Alfred H. Paddock Jr., Major John L. Plaster, and Colonel Charles Simpson. Also deserving of gratitude are the veterans of special operations forces who have deepened the historical record by writing about their own experiences. Among them are James J. Altieri, Frank Antenori, Colonel Charlie Beckwith, Colonel Pete Blaber, Colonel Robert W. Black, Lieutenant General Jerry Boykin, Colonel Carl Eifler, Colonel John Gargus, Colonel Henry G. Gole, Major Thomas Greer, Eric L. Haney, Colonel Francis J. Kelly, Colonel R. Alan King, Colonel James H. Kyle, General Stanley McChrystal, Colonel Brian S. Petit, Nate Self, Major General John K. Singlaub, Marty Skovlund Jr., General Carl Stiner, Jeff Struecker, and Keni Thomas.
